


Under the Helmet

by ElZacharie



Series: Drabbles [16]
Category: Shoddycast, The Storyteller (Shoddycast)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Robots, Synths (Humans)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElZacharie/pseuds/ElZacharie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tanner and Junior grill the Storyteller about his armor and the Storyteller gets something he never thought he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Helmet

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add stuff here later my hand hurts

"How come you never take off your power armor, Storyteller?" Tanner asked suddenly, popping open a bottle of whiskey and poking the campfire with a stick. "I've never seen you without it, not even to change the fusion core."

The paladin looked up from his laser rifle, random junk scattered around him from his repairs. For once, he seemed to be at a loss for words. "Maybe you just aren't awake when I do."

"I doubt that, Storyteller," Junior piped in, swallowing a mouthful of Dandy Boys. "You're like a log when you sleep, and you're always the first one to pass out."

"Now that I think of it, we've never seen you take it off to eat, or... take care of your business." She frowned, sipping her drink. "It's like you're a rob–"

"Have I ever told you guys about the Institute, in the Commonwealth? The area was once known as..."

There was her cue to tune him out. Tanner waited until the Storyteller finished telling his story and Junior fell asleep to confront him again.

"You didn't answer my question, Storyteller."

The man visibly tensed, even through the armor. EDNA beeped worriedly, glancing between the two of them. "There's nothing to tell, ranger. It's just a suit of armor."

"One that you sleep in and repair while you're still wearing it. And you got all jumpy when I tried to say—"

"The preferred term is synth," was all the Storyteller said, his voice so quiet that she almost didn't hear him. "Not robot, synth."

That was not the answer she'd been expecting. Tanner got to her feet and sat next to the paladin, hesitating a moment before she reached up and pulled off his helmet.

She and Junior had spent quite a few nights discussing what their mutual companion looked like beneath his helmet, each one more ridiculous than the last, but none of them came close to the truth. His skin was frayed and yellowed, parts of it sliced as though by a blade and an entire chunk of his right jaw and left forehead missing, revealing a metal skeleton, filled with wires that popped and hissed, many of them showing off the circuitry inside.

What caught her attention most, however, was his eyes. They weren't human in the slightest— the were completely black with a ring of gold where the iris would be; if he were to tilt his head at just the right angle, one could just barely see how the eyes connected to his frame.

The Storyteller was babbling, some explanation as to why he looked like this, why he'd kept it a secret, but the ranger wasn't listening. Without warning, she smashed their lips together in a kiss.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her own fucked up brain, but she slipped her tongue into his mouth when he gasped, finding a very real feeling tongue inside.

At first, the Storyteller was too stunned and confused to reciprocate, but, as Tanner grew bolder, so did he. He had none of her confidence, but he could feel her smile when he pushed back into the kiss, mimicking her.

Then, all too soon, Tanner pulled away, the paladin trailing after her. She was smiling at him— he'd known she had a beautiful smile, but seeing it directed at him made his servos seize up— as she pulled away and returned to her own cot, laying down without another word.

The Storyteller put his helmet back on, ignoring the increasingly angry beeping that EDNA was making in favor of lying on his back and replaying the memory in his head.


End file.
